


Lights, Cameras, Action

by OrphanText



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Video Cameras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 08:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5122133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrphanText/pseuds/OrphanText
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cameras. Lights. A laptop, likely an internet connection, and a bed. He was liking this less and less.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lights, Cameras, Action

**Author's Note:**

> I did not plan for how complicated this turned out to be. All I wanted was good old humiliation.
> 
> Also trying my hand at writing Hakuba because he can be rather cute.
> 
> x-posted from tumblr

He comes to a dizzying, startling bright ring of lights, and a pair of hands frisking at him. He groans as his shirt is yanked brusquely off, baring his shoulders to the cold. Still groggy, he blinks multiple times in confusion as Kid’s face swims into view, grinning toothily down at him.

It isn’t the best situation to be in, Hakuba quickly realises as his mind clears by the minute. Kid has divested him of most of his clothes while he was out, and it looked as though he was being surrounded by numerous studio lights and what looks to be several video cameras, their dark lenses pointed at him.

“I had been worried that I had hit you a little too hard back there,” Kaito says, because this was Kaito, prankster of the class, classmate of Ekoda High, all roguish smiles and his particular brand of boyish mischief. “Are you alright?”

Now that it was mentioned, Hakuba does find that the back of his head felt rather sore. His mind wasn’t working at its usual rapid fire speed, and Hakuba sincerely hopes that Kaito hadn’t given him an injury serious enough to be worried about. His thoughts were muddy and sluggish, and from how weak he felt, barely able to lift a hand to defend him while Kid cheerfully stripped him of his belt, he rather suspects that he has been drugged. In answer to Kid’s question: he felt more or less physically fine. Mentally, he was screaming.

While he lay there, still trying to wrap his mind around the predicament he was in, Kid reached for his trousers, unbuttoning it before he could rustle up a protest and briskly yanked it off his legs. The garment slipped free of his ankles before it occurred to him to kick, but then Kid was already moving away out of reach with a low whistle of appreciation that brought heat to Hakuba’s cheeks in embarrassment.

“Kuroba - “ Hakuba cuts off into a violent coughing fit, voice sandpaper rough. His throat feels scratched raw, and then Kid is by his side, inserting a thumb into the side of his mouth and keeping it open by applying pressure on his jaw. He shakes his head, attempting to loosen his grip, then two fingers are pushing in, smearing a sort of thick syrup over his tongue and near the back of his throat. Hakuba gags, tears springing into his eyes and tries, valiantly, to pull free of the tight, painful grip Kid has on him, before Kid tips a bottle of water down his throat, and he has to either swallow or choke.

The thief releases him once he is satisfied with the amount of water that he has swallowed, leaving Hakuba panting for air, wet from the water spilt down his front in the brief struggle. The bed - because he was lying on one for reasons he was almost afraid to think about - was uncomfortably damp, and beginning to cool against his skin.

“There we go.” Kid pats him almost fondly on the cheek, gloves smearing saliva onto him. He looks cheerful again. “Also, I’m Kid. Kaitou Kid, not this Kuroba person you speak of.”

Unable to speak for the moment, Hakuba only sends him an incredulous look. Surely Kuroba doesn’t expect him to not recognise his deviant classmate (drugged as he was)? Kuroba was still dressed in pieces of Kid’s costume. Not the full regalia, but signature enough to mark him out as the elusive thief. The white jacket was gone, as is the top hat, but Kuroba was still wearing the white gloves, sleeves of his blue shirt rolled up to his elbows out of the way. His face was entirely bare and undisguised. Hakuba thinks there is a trace of what looks to be a line of glue on his cheek, and other than the monocle adorning his right eye (which glinted rather diabolical like whenever Kuroba turned towards the light, in Hakuba’s opinion), this was Kuroba Kaito in the flesh, alright.

He vaguely remembers being on the way home from a Kid heist that had ended late, wanting to head to the convenience store for something to eat before informing baaya to pick him up. Kid must have nabbed him then, the streets deserted enough that no one would be paying special attention to him. The thief was clearly eager to add to his list of crimes before he was hauled up before court, obviously.

“Kindly stop this madness,” Hakuba says, because he only wanted to go home for a much needed night’s sleep. “Please,” he tacks on as an afterthought, shivering. The lights were warm, but the studio (it looked like a studio, from what he could see, past the bright lights that circled him) was close to freezing.

Kid’s answer was a low chuckle, rolling a laptop over on a trolley, trailing wires down the side. “I’m guessing your charming manners are what endears you to your fanclub,” Kid says, pulling the laptop up before him and typing away rapidly. “It can’t have been your terrible personality.”

Rather insulted, Hakuba glares at him. He wasn’t the flashy criminal who had just committed a kidnapping crime in the room, who also steals, who likes to strip people of their clothes while they were out and destroying public property wantonly. He also doesn’t have a fanclub, not the way Kid does… probably. It had never occurred to him to check, after all. It figures that Kid would.

“I do hope that you will forgive the sudden invitation,” Kid goes on brightly. “I wasn’t certain if you would RSVP, so I took the matter into my own hands. Now, please don’t move. I want to get your best angle for your fans.”

Just another regular exercise in humiliation, then. Hakuba wasn’t sure what he had done to gain the thief’s ire, or if it was simply Kuroba’s own twisted sense of humour. The thief had been targeting him lately whenever he showed up at the heists, leaving him in traps more humiliating and elaborate than the last, Hakuba usually having to wait for police rescue while Kudo hared off after the cackling thief. Kuroba, on the other hand, had left him alone in school for the most part, lying off the usual pranks and tricks that had even Nakamori rightly suspicious of him, but Hakuba did not miss the contemplative looks that his classmate had directed at him whenever he thought he wasn’t looking.

Cameras. Lights. A laptop, likely an internet connection, and a bed. He was liking this less and less.

“Why?” The simplest, but easily the most difficult question to answer.

“You’re a detective,” Kid tsked from where he was peering into the viewfinder, adjusting the angle and the focus of the camera. “Figuring out the motive is your job.”

As though the phantom thief has any straightforward and easily discernable motive. Hakuba would have scoffed, but Kid is once again back by his side, tousling his hair with a hand and then rolling him over (Hakuba really hopes that the drug will wear off soon), arranging him to lie as he pleases. Once Kid was happy with the arrangement, he pulls out Kuroba’s phone from his pocket, and snaps a few photos of him in quick succession.

“Blackmail?”

Kid blows a loud raspberry. “Nothing so boring, my dear detective.”

Hakuba would have liked to say something witty and barbed in reply to the thief, except then the thief had set aside his phone, hooked fingers into Hakuba’s pants and simply tugged them _off_.

The brunette freezes, mind immediately swamped with panic, the instinct to cover up and hide like blaring sirens and manifesting as an insistent, uncomfortable buzz underneath his skin. He goes hot, and then cold, and doesn’t realise that he is hyperventilating, drawing breath too quickly to get any oxygen efficiently, until Kid smacks him firmly on the cheek a couple of times.

“Breathe.” He hears the thief say, firm and just as insistent through the buzzing fog in his head. “In and out. Slowly.”

The thief had him supported against his chest, rubbing comforting circles over his back, making the appropriate shushing noises into his hair. Focusing on Kid’s steady heartbeat helped, as is attempting to match the other’s breathing pattern. Kid doesn’t pull away until the panic has fully subsided, pressing a gentle kiss to Hakuba’s temple as he lays him carefully back down onto the bed. Hakuba watches him nervously. The lights and cameras he’d been able to ignore up till just now was all he can focus on, the highschool detective feeling entirely too vulnerable and exposed before them, pinned under Kid’s calculative look. He shudders when Kid’s fingers tickle at the back of his knees, spider walking down his calves, and tries to curl into himself.

“You’re - not this sort of criminal,” Hakuba pleads - begs, lamely. A gentle hand cups his cheek, and he squeezes his eyes closed when Kid leans in to press a kiss against his forehead.

“Don’t worry,” Kid murmurs, cradling him close, nose brushing against his hair. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Momentarily distracted, Hakuba wasn’t able to react when Kid pulled away, aiming a small metal canister in his face and spraying him squarely in the face with the pressurized gas. Shocked, Hakuba gets a full lungful of the sweet smelling gas before he remembers to hold his breath. Kid watches him dispassionately, pacing around him, a gas mask firmly over his face and clearly bidding his time for Hakuba’s next breath, the detective unable to hold his air forever. For the first time, there is terror coiling tight at the base of his spine, Hakuba unable to predict or foretell Kid’s movements.

“Kuroba! Stop this - “ Hakuba wheezes, and just as expected, Kid delivers another dose of gas directly to the face again when he draws for oxygen.

“I’m not Kuroba. I’m Kid.” The menacing figure says good-humouredly as the last of Hakuba’s strength leaves him, the detective a boneless slump on the bed, only able to stare blearily at the wheels of the trolley. “Do you like the new formula of the paralysing agent? I noticed that your recovery time from the old formula was getting shorter. Consider it insurance.”

Footsteps, and then Kid’s voice was coming from slightly further away. “I will make it easy for you, then. I have a known history of collecting and stealing beautiful gemstones and precious artworks. I didn’t send a heist note this time, but I don’t always send one to show up, and this is something that I have coveted for quite a while.”

Hakuba’s mind jerks in terror when fingers comb through his hair, thumb smoothing over his cheekbone and stroking down his neck. “Maybe I am not so superficial. Or maybe you have a low self-esteem. Spoonfeeding you the answer would be so ~ boring.” Lips, then a hot tongue brushes over the outer shell of his ear, then teeth closed gently around the lobe, tugging lightly. “I know how much you love the spotlight, so I went to all this effort for you. In about half a minute, these cameras will be going live, and then everyone will be able to see as I do - on selected channels, of course. This isn’t going to be a free show.”

Oh god. Hakuba feels as though he was going to throw up and faint at the same time. Kid had hooked the feed up to a porn channel for live broadcasting. Suddenly, being set on fire and burnt alive seemed a much better prospect than whatever Kid had planned for him. The thief kisses him on the cheek affectionately, a hand circling a limp wrist.

“Your heart is beating extremely fast,” he notes, who has no idea of the hysteria happening within the confines of Hakuba’s mind. “Are you frightened?”

It was a stupid question, and Hakuba hopes that Kid knows it too, except no answer was expected from him, because Kid leans in and purrs good right into his ear, and he thinks now would be a really good time to faint, except he couldn’t, and has to wonder exactly how far gone Kuroba was.

Their thirty second window was more than up, and while Hakuba was unable to see it, he could sense Kid’s keen interest prickling over his skin. Hakuba had only witnessed this behaviour from Kuroba once, when he had accidentally walked in on him and Nakamori Aoko staying behind in class after school hours, chalk in hand and perched on desks, engaged in a quiet but intense discussion over the high-level math they have scrawled across the chalkboard. He doesn’t think that Kuroba was aware of his presence, then, lurking out of sight from behind the classroom door. There had been some physics thrown into the mix, diagrams and graphs crammed into a corner. Nakamori paced back and forth before the board, talking quietly aloud to herself, while Kuroba stared at the board, a thoughtful frown on his face and tapping his bit of chalk on his knee. He doesn’t think he’s seen Kuroba apply that much focus on anything before.

It hadn’t been the predatory interest that Kid usually exhibits on his daredevil heists, with the near maniacal, unrestrained approach to just about everything. This was Kuroba, focusing all his attention with an almost laser like precision to get at something he has taken a personal interest in, and it was (Hakuba was willing to admit without threat of torture) utterly terrifying.

Hands skim down his arms, cloth rasping against his skin, and Hakuba jerked involuntarily when thumbs dig into tender pressure points, pain blossoming outwards. Kid chuckles quietly from behind him, unapologetically, and the hands move away. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, not sounding the least bit sorry, then - “Ooh, scars.” A hot mouth is suddenly on his arm, high up over his bicep where Hakuba knows he has a pale thin scar cutting across from when someone had tried to mug him in London. A hot tongue laves over it, tracing what he assumes is the mark, and then Kid is focusing his attention elsewhere, the now wet spot on his arm cold.

It goes on for a while, Kid exploring his body at leisure, unhesitant to dig into spots that has pain flaring up in his limbs, greedily taking in Hakuba’s every reaction, and then running fingers lightly over his more sensitive spots - his palms, his sides, the back of his neck. Hakuba gurgles quietly, unable to make a proper sound, only to be shushed by Kid, fingers pressing against his lips briefly. It made him dizzy, head spinning, never knowing if Kid’s next touch would bring pain or something skirting dangerously near to pleasure.

When Kid discovers that his back is a particularly erogenous zone for him, he makes a pleased sound. Hakuba was then subject to long minutes of Kid teasing him relentlessly, mercilessly applying lips and hands and teeth and driving Hakuba nearly mad when he nibbles his way delicately down the curve of his spine. His chin was slick with spit by the time Kid decides to show him mercy, and only groans when Kid delivers a gentle smack to his rear.

Sometime in between when Kid had been utterly distracting with his ministrations, Hakuba realises that he is less conscious of the thing with the internet and video cameras, and much more about the new development in between his legs. Clearly Kid has noticed it too, the thief nibbling on the meat of his shoulder, lips curved in what was unmistakably a smile while hands slid down along the underside of his thighs.

_Don’t -_ Hakuba thinks frantically, then Kid is spreading his legs apart, hands hooked under his knees, exposing him fully to the light.

“Looks like tantei-san can be naughty too,” Kid sing songs into his ear, pulling a strangled sound out of Hakuba, and then a hot hand is curling around his cock, Kid giving it a slow, firm tug, and Hakuba abruptly wishes that spontaneous human combustion was possible while his mind goes blank.

He doesn’t know exactly the kind of view he was presenting, thoughts fizzing out like bubbles in a bottle of fizzy drink. Kid takes a look at his face, and whatever he sees has him smiling in dark satisfaction, peering at him almost coyly from beneath thick, dark lashes.

Irrationally, it occurs to him that Kuroba is a really pretty boy.

The hand moves again, and Hakuba would have choked if movement was possible for him, currently too busy developing a crick in his neck from the unnatural angle his head was resting back against Kid’s shoulder. The thief curls his palm around the tip, then turns his head for a sloppy kiss on the corner of his mouth, before pinching him really hard on the soft flesh in his side. Hakuba jerks helplessly in his embrace, moaning when Kid follows up by stroking his cock, chasing the pain with pleasure.

A hand presses low over his abdomen, possessive, teeth worrying gently at the side of his neck. If he could, Hakuba has no doubt that he would be bucking shamelessly into Kid’s hand for more, the other teasing him too slowly for it to be satisfactory. It feels as though someone has filled the space between his ears with soft, fluffy cotton wool, his thoughts comfortably muted and distant, while at the same time turning up the dial on his awareness of his physical sensations.

He should be planning an escape, or offering some sort of resistance. Not being pliant (though it wasn’t a deliberate choice on his part) and wanting _more_.

A sharp, sudden pain across his chest startled him rudely alert, and Hakuba shuddered when the edge of a blunt nail caught on a nipple. “Focus, focus,” Kid tutted, soothing the pain quickly with a palm. “Don’t forget that you have an audience.”

The faceless millions hooked through the internet, all tuned into his current predicament with the aid of a few well-placed cameras. The reminder was a bucket of cold water in his face. He didn’t want to be seen, not like this, weak and helpless and exposed by Kid’s hands, red like a cooked lobster from arousal and shame. True, he didn’t mind the spotlights, but he had never actively sought it, either, a more private person by nature when it came to his own affairs. He feels as though he was five, pushed onstage before a hungry audience without his lines and without a quick exit. Hot tears track down his cheeks, and Kid kisses the moisture away.

“I am cruel in my affections,” Kid murmurs quietly, lips against his ear and cradling him close. “But not enough to let dirty old men masturbate over the sight of your naked body half a world away through the dark net. And I am under no illusions that they would, hunched over in a dark room with your shame splashed on their screen. This doesn’t go to anyone whom I have not personally vetted, if you still trust me.”

A dangerous word to use in their situation. Hakuba doesn’t know what it says about him that he still does. He imagines that psychologists would have a field day if they got their hands on him, right after they’ve gotten their hands on Kid. It feels marginally easier to accept that Kid wasn’t mindlessly striking to hurt, but it still doesn’t narrow the results by much.

“Ask me why I’m doing this,” Kid’s voice drops an octave, dark and hungry. There are fingers in his mouth and lips on his pulse, Kid’s body a furnace behind him as he jerks him off roughly. “It’s your punchline, isn’t it? I won’t lie to you, Saguru. Its because you are pretty, and I like the helpless, vulnerable look on your face that you have right now. If I could, I would just lap it up, like cream.” Hakuba gags as the fingers press close to the back of his throat, wheezing noisily through his nose, then Kid’s teeth are snapping dangerously close to his face. “Bad taste from me, but you have your answer now.”

“People like to exhibit precious stones and valuable artwork, because something this valuable and beautiful should not be kept in the dark unknown to the world. That I can agree with. And while I usually return what I have taken, I don’t think I can bring myself to give you up even if I’ve shared the sights of you with them. You, I think, I’m going to keep.”

He punctuates the end of his sentence by sinking his teeth into Hakuba’s shoulder, the pain enough to make Hakuba’s ears ring, and not entirely because it hurt. By the time he was somewhat more coherent again, Kid is straddling his waist, strong thighs spread to either side of him and nuzzling into his palm like a rather affectionate cat. Noticing Hakuba’s gaze on him, he holds the eye contact, and then deliberately sucks a finger into his mouth.

The contact had his cock twitching with renewed interest, and Kid grins slyly, tongue darting out to catch the pad of his finger, before lapping at his palm and grinding his arse back teasingly against his erection. The detective doesn’t want to know the kind of mess he was leaving on Kid’s clothes, but barely had enough functioning space left in his head to focus on anything but Kid sucking on his fingers. The clover charm bumps against his wrist, and Kid presses his lips to Hakuba’s fingertips, and to the center of his palm, almost solemnly.

“I would make sweet love to your body,” Kid says quietly, eyes dark and heavy with promise. “But you are so much more than that, the sum of your mind, your beauty and the vulnerability that you have so carefully hidden away.”

The fluent french from Kid’s lips throws Hakuba off for a moment, the detective blinking dumbly back at him. The thief seems to blush, cheeks pinking sweet for a brief moment, the tips of his ears turning red, before he leans forwards, hands reaching to cup his cheeks.

“Thieves like to go after what they cannot have,” Kid continues, still speaking in french. “May I kiss you?”

Kid had knocked him out cold, drugged him, stripped him naked, grabbed him back the cock and now felt that he had to ask permission for a _kiss_? Hakuba wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry. Unable to speak, he stares back into Kid’s serious face, then slowly, deliberately, blinks once, and then Kid is kissing him, slow and eager and sweet, chapped lips and wet heat in between them. His thumbs press gently on the hinge of his jaw, and a tongue slips into his mouth, foreign and strange and intimate all at once.

Kid’s face was entirely red by the time he pulls back, and Hakuba is struck with the sudden realisation that the thief might be being _shy_. It was odd, seeing a vulnerable expression on the thief’s face, the persona of his classmate peeking through the cracks in his composure. Kid tips his head to the side, tongue darting out to lick at his lips, and then leans down to suck on his collarbone. Hakuba feels himself blush as Kuroba carefully peppers kisses down his chest and over his belly, occasionally tonguing at him, and squeezes his eyes shut when Kid noses into his hip, hot breath ghosting over his erection.

“May I?” There is no question about what Kid is asking him about, and out of duty, Hakuba would have probably said no, except for the problem that he really didn’t want to, and before his mind is made up, there are a pair of lips on him and - _oh_.

Kid was uncharacteristically careful, patient as he applies kitten licks along his engorged length, sucking gently along the side while his hands idly stroked over his calves. He was being an absolute fucking _tease_ , and it was driving Hakuba mad, especially when he could not direct (not that he could, realistically speaking) what Kid was doing, and he made a sort of half-strangled sound in his throat when Kid finally, _finally_ took him into his mouth, all hot wet heat and velvety softness.

He hates that he is unable to see what Kid is doing, the expression that he had on his face as he sucks on Hakuba’s cock, lips stretched wide and sweat beading on his forehead (courtesy of his overactive, young imagination). He wonders if Kid will be blushing, and if he will look just as vulnerable in between his moments of devilish confidence. He wonders who he will see if he could just look down - Kaitou Kid, or Kuroba Kaito? The head of his cock bumps up gently against something unresisting and soft, and there is a quiet, choked gurgling sound from between his legs, Kid’s fingers tightening minutely against his thighs, and it gives Hakuba a rush to the head to realise that he had probably bumped up against Kid’s soft palette, and that was Kid likely gagging himself on his erection.

When Kuroba does sit up, his cheeks are a dark red, lips swollen and glistening with saliva, looking as though he’d been half drugged himself. Hakuba would have dearly loved to kiss him, and Kid apparently has the same idea, lips bitter when he does lean in, their side jobs be damned.

It goes on for a while, Kid alternating between kissing him and sucking him off, setting a moderate pace. Hakuba cannot be certain about his stand on being kissed right while oral sex was still happening, but quickly has another pressing issue to worry about - namely the courtesy on whether he should be coming into his classmate’s mouth, in a situation where he cannot give him a prior warning.

Blunt nails scratch at his inner thigh, then Kid is tapping out a message on his knee, Hakuba nearly whimpering when he musters enough mental strength to decipher it.

Out of a sense of propriety, he fights against the urge, even though Kid has given him the OK. As though sensing his struggle, Kid renews his efforts, abandoning his previous slow pace and slurping sloppily over him, easily shoving Hakuba over the edge with a light scrape of teeth beneath the tip. Shuddering, Hakuba doesn’t realise he has a hand in Kid’s dark hair until he was pulling on it, the thief grunting, lips still wrapped around his cock while Hakuba is still coming.

Kid stays still, Hakuba apologetically letting go of his hair when he was able, only pulling off with an obscene slurp and wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, before spitting into his own palm. He looked just as disheveled and undone as Hakuba feels, hair in complete disarray, his mask as Kid already discarded along the way. Hakuba stills, and feels his spent cock twitch against his thigh in a new kind of interest.

“Alright?” Kid’s voice was deliciously hoarse, and that, too, was doing all kinds of things to Hakuba’s already exhausted libido.

“I’m alright,” Hakuba says, clearing his throat a couple of times to be able to speak properly, nearly fumbling when Kid hands over a bottle of water once he has disposed of his soiled gloves.

“Bad?” Kid perches on the side of the bed, taking the water back from him and uncapping it for him when he notices that Hakuba was still too weak to unscrew the plastic cap from the top. He helps him sip some of the liquid, before gulping down about half of the bottle himself.

“No.” Hakuba rolls gingerly onto his side, glancing into the camera nearest to him, and moves to pillow his head on Kid’s thigh. Already, there were some bruises developing on his skin, but that, he didn’t mind. Above him, Kid cocks his head to the side, then bites his lip, blushing furiously.

“He’s _fine_ , Shinichi. Stop nagging,” Kaito says, a hand moving instinctively to pet Hakuba on the head absently. “How are _your_ studies? Not fine, I bet.”

Hakuba chuckles when Kaito rips out the earpiece he’s been wearing for the entire time, and picks it up from where Kaito has tossed it onto the bed, slotting it into his ear and aiming an exhausted smile at the camera.

“ _You_ ,” Shinichi sighs from through the earpiece. “I did absolutely nothing constructive for the past one hour.”

“He wouldn’t stop going _voulez-vous coucher avec moi_ in my ear,” Kaito complains loudly. “While I was trying to be serious. He’s ruining everything.”

“A good performer wouldn’t let something like that faze him,” Shinichi says smugly, and it answers Hakuba’s question of the almost random blushing that Kaito had been doing. Hakuba’s smile turns fond, and he covers Kaito’s hand with his own, nuzzling against his thigh.

“Kaito.”

“Mrh? Are you cold? Is there something you need?” Kaito immediately turns towards him, hands fluttering over him in concern. He leans down when Hakuba gestures for him to, and is nearly surprised by the kiss, eyes widening comically.

“I like the bit where you called me Saguru,” Hakuba informs him, and watches Kaito redden even further. “I think you should use it from now on.”

While he had been the one to suggest the whole set up, all the planning had been left to Kaito, leaving most of it as a surprise, even to Hakuba himself. Kaito and Shinichi had begun dating first, later accepting Hakuba into their fold at Shinichi’s suggestion after a long, serious discussion. Though he loved them both dearly, he was more than aware of Kaito’s own reservations against him given their history. Though the magician had never held back on his own displays of affection for the detective, when it came to receiving the same from him, he had always looked off-kilter and unsure. Wanting to wipe the uncertainty off his face and surprising Shinichi with the same stone, Hakuba had hatched this plan after one too many nights of subsisting on coffee alone.

“Did you really hit me on the head?” He asked.

“Of course not! I… might have accidentally bumped your head against the doorway while carrying you in - oof!”

Hakuba allowed himself a moment to savour Kaito’s surprised look, swinging a leg over to straddle him instead. “Were you serious about the new formula?”

“I timed it perfectly,” Kaito grumbled, watching him with bright, curious eyes. “Unless you’ve managed to gain some sort of immunity.”

“It wears off a little fast,” Hakuba advises, and then palms Kaito roughly through his slacks.

Beneath him, Kaito sucks in a sharp breath, and licks at his lips nervously while Hakuba unbuttons his shirt. “The cameras are still running.”

“Good,” Hakuba purrs, and then leans down to kiss the exposed skin.

In his ear, Shinichi begins to complain.

****  
  
  
  
  


\----ƒ

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**Author's Note:**

> 好害羞


End file.
